Horrified in the Fry’s Parking Lot!

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Be prepared for 2 things:

  1. My shortest blog post ever!
  2. To be grossed out beyond belief.

While driving out of the grocery store parking lot I stopped to let a woman cross the street and go into the store. Innocuous so far, right?

Well…Oh, the horror of it all!

She was pushing the cart with her belly while picking her nose with one hand and BRUSHING HER TEETH WITH THE OTHER!

What.

The.

Fuck.

I could die tonight and have seen it all. ALL!

Total insanity.

Granted, I’m a visual atrocity fairly often. I go to Starbucks in my pajamas and with no makeup. But someone kill me if I ever walk around with one finger in my nose and the other working a toothbrush.

I don’t even know how she did it. Isn’t it like rubbing your belly and patting your head. Good grief! ;)

Snatch Monster, Muff Mauler and Road Rage. A Rant for all Seasons! :)

Alrighty then…since I’ve used absolutely no tact in my title, I might as well follow suit in my post. Prepare yourself for a flurry of fucks, a smattering of shits (wow, that just sounds nasty) and a bombardment of bitches! ;)

How, you may ask, do muff and road rage go together? Well, I’ll tell ya. Being a girl, I’m blessed (cursed!) to have girl parts. As such, I must make a yearly trip to the snatch monster to ensure that said girl parts are still in one piece and functioning according to warranty. Is this a fun trip? No. Do I enjoy it? No. Could I do without? Yes. Though I must admit my snatch monster is simply delightful. I love her. So, I guess if one has to endure such humiliating things as, “Put your feet in the stirrups. Scootch down a little further. Now spread ‘em. A little more…even more. Thanks,” all the while watching her move a spotlight onto my goods while praying no one is peeking through the crack in the venetian blinds, it’s at least good to love your Snatch Monster.

Just so you know, fellas, I really, really, really hate you for not having to suffer the equivalent junk misery every year of your life. I mean, I love men, but I resent the shit out of having to endure all this muff torture while you just sit pretty with all your external parts. It’s just not fair. I know, I know, life ain’t fair. That doesn’t mean I can’t bitch and whine about it though! ;)

So, that adventure is what took me out of the house yesterday and led me to my first batch of road rage–which we’ll get to in a minute.

Today, I had to go back to the doctor, but this time for the Muff Mauler. Yep, I’ve been violated by a Monster and a Mauler all in the course of 24 hours. I mean, really…what the fuck? Is not once a year bad enough? Twice in as many days? That is just unfair. This visit was to check out my girlie organs and make sure all is well (all is well, thank God!). For those of you who don’t know how this is done, they take a thigh-sized implement of death and jam it in you until it feels like it’s in your esophagus and then they root around like they are mining for gold. YUCK!!! NOT FUN!!! It’s not horribly painful, but it ain’t a walk in a field of lavender either. This visit, of course, is the reason for my second foray into road rage.

Here’s what I think about other drivers (keeping in mind that I’m doubly annoyed because of the muff violations):

  1. If you are scared of driving, GET THE FUCK OFF THE ROAD!!! Good grief. I’m terrified of jumping out of a plane, so guess what? I don’t do it. Maybe you should consider the same thing in regards to driving. Unless you’ve recently been gut-shot by a large caliber weapon and are driving to the emergency room, or have just gotten out of the hospital from 3 horrible surgeries and every piece of gravel on the road is torturous to your poor little healing body, you have NO EXCUSE for DLAT (driving like a twat).
  2. If you can’t drive AT LEAST the speed limit, or preferably 10 miles over it, then GET THE FUCK OFF THE ROAD!!! There is no excuse for driving 30 on a 40 mph road. The accelerator is your friend. Use the fucking thing before I run you over and dance on your mangled corpse.
  3. If you are on the freeway DRIVE FAST ASSHAT as that is what the freeway is for. If you want to drive 45 miles per hour, get on a side street. I’ll never understand why people get on the freeway and drive like they are getting paid for going slow. It makes me want to ram into you, cut you off, side swipe you and then call you a fuckface over and over again until I’m hoarse.
  4. If you are going to turn or merge into another lane, USE YOUR SONOFABITCHING TURN SIGNAL! I hope there is a special level of Hell for people who assume that at 70 mph I can read your mind and know exactly when you plan on merging in front of me with only 3 feet to spare. Can I say asshole????
  5. If you are driving on the freeway in rush hour at 30 mph and all of a sudden the lanes open up (which I’ll never understand why or how that happens) then SPEED THE FUCK UP! Why do you keep going 30 mph in a 65 mph zone when there isn’t a car in front of you? WHY? Why God, why do they do it??
  6. If you see me coming, just move the fuck over and let me by. That way, we can all be happy and safe. ;)
How people really feel while driving!

How people really feel while driving!

Whew, that was exhausting! Driving these last two days in rush hour (I have to make my appointments late in the afternoon so I don’t miss work) has made me 4,000,000 times more thankful that I have a job where I get to work from home. I’m not sure that I could do the whole rush hour thing daily. I used to have to drive 75 miles each way in rush hour and I don’t know how I’m not in prison.

Thank you, as always, for putting up with my horrible mouth, my unending sarcasm and my delight in ranting. I feel SO much better now that that is all off my chest (doesn’t it always look weird when you have “that that”  in a sentence?).

Have a great weekend! Hugs!

I look like an idiot. I’m okay with that.

There I am, driving down the road singing my heart out and car dancing like nobody’s watching–just having a grand ole time, when I see someone else doing what I’m doing to the same song on the radio. We were quite the vocal duet at the traffic light. My thoughts were these:

  • Oh my God, they look silly!
  • Oh my God, I’m doing the same thing!
  • Oh my God, I bet I look silly too!
  • Meh…who cares?

Then I turned up the volume and my stoplight partner in crime and I both danced and sang the time away until a green light ended the song.

It doesn’t matter what the song is, chances are that if it’s on a CD of mine I know every word. Whether it’s Alice in Chains, Pink Floyd, Lionel Richie or something in between, I’m a singing and car dancing fool! And why not? So I look like an idiot? So people in the cars around probably want to jam a pencil into their ear drums? I find few things to be as fun as hauling ass down the highway with my doors rattling from the bass vibration while pretending I’m on American Idol.

So, do I look like a dork? I’m quite positive I do. But will I ever let that stop me, even when I’m old and toothless and can carry a tune even worse than I do now? Nope! You gotta catch fun where you can, and for me it’s often behind the wheel.

Anyone else out there Grammy Winning Wannabe while driving? I cannot be the only one! :)

On Being a Driving Sociopath

Drive faster or move your ass outta my way! Yep, that’s pretty much how I look at all other drivers on the road.  This is me confessing that I think that everyone else should part like the Red Sea and make room for me when I drive. I KNOW! That is HORRIBLE!!!! I’m a BAD person! But, I’m tellin’ ya, I want to lose my ever-loving mind sometimes.

Of course, it doesn’t help living in Arizona. Here we have people called Snowbirds. While they are great for our economy, our population doubles between November and April with all the people who Winter here.  And while I love people of all races, religions, age, weight, hair color, sexual-orientation, eye color, IQ, shoe size and pet-preference, I have a hard time with the slow driver.

I try so hard to keep in mind, when a sweet octogenarian in a 1995 Lincoln is driving 15 miles below the speed limit in front of me, that bless their heart, they probably survived WWII or Korea or Vietnam. They’ve raised families, suffered loss, probably have medical conditions. I really, REALLY try to remember all of that so that my instinct of running them off the road while flipping them the bird and singing Highway to Hell at the top of my lungs doesn’t overtake me.

Jeepers, I should probably delete this post as it makes me look like a hideous person, but it took me 8 minutes to go ONE mile today. ONE MILE!! I had a moving roadblock in front of me doing between 12-15 mph on a main road. I wasn’t sure if I was more homicidal or suicidal. I mean, I understand that life shapes who we are and part of who we are is reflected in how we drive. Maybe the person driving their car slower than I walk had been in an accident at some other time in their life and is now kinda scared to drive. Maybe they aren’t feeling well. Maybe their car sucks and is dying. These are things I try to keep in the forefront of my mind when trapped in hell on the road. Alas, I still lose my mind.

Here are things I think about driving:

  1. If someone is behind you and clearly wants to go faster than you, if you are not already in the right lane for slow people, then MOVE OVER! Even if I’m speeding (which I try to limit to no more than 7 mph over the speed limit as I fear traffic cops more than cancer), if the person behind me wants to go faster then me, I move. It’s the polite thing to do.
  2. If you don’t use turn signals you should not be allowed to have a car.
  3. If you sit at a light for 10 seconds after it turns green, you should be stripped of your driving privileges.
  4. If you are lost or looking for an address, put your hazard lights on so that people expect your dumbass driving. At least then we won’t be stunned when you stop dead in the middle of the street.
  5. Learn to park in ONE parking space. I realize this isn’t exactly a driving pet peeve, but when someone parks on the diagonal in a non-diagonal parking space, I want to key their car. I would never do it, as again, I fear police more than female patterned baldness, but I do get the urge.
  6. Did I mention that if you don’t use turn signals you should be drawn and quartered? Oh, wow, that sounded harsh!!! I wouldn’t actually do that to anyone, I promise. :)

While I have now officially painted myself as a psycho, I know I’m not the only one. As such, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to let me know in my poll what kind of driver you are. I promise to still like you if you are a slow, devil-may-care driver. I might like you less, but I’ll still like you. ;) KIDDING!!